Servers Share The Worst First Date They’ve Ever Witnessed – Part 1

First dates can be incredibly uncomfortable – but usually when people say that they mean uncomfortable for the daters. Trust us, though, some of those first dates can be just as uncomfortable for the people forced to witness them.

Reddit user StickyRice4 asked:

Considering your classic first date setup typically happens at a bar or restaurant, there were a lot of answers, each a little bit more awful than the one before. Generally speaking, they all boil down to one major mistake – an inability or unwillingness to read your date.

So there you go, folks. That’s our pro-tip for the day. Read your date so you know whether or not you should bust out your Pokemon, your racism or homophobia, your fetishes, or that thing you do with your tongue.

Spoiler Alert: Yeeeeaaaaah you should probably keep that stuff to yourself on a first date.

Untouched

This isn’t as bad as some of the others but the guy and girl arrived separately and it seemed like they were meeting for the first time at the restaurant. They sat down then the girl excused herself and went to the bathroom. The guy ordered drinks for them both while she was gone then, after like 30 mins, ordered two meals. It was so obvious she wasn’t coming back but he kept calling her and eventually just left all the food and drink untouched and paid the bill.

Starbucks And Japanese

She was Japanese and he started off by showing her his shirt with sumo wrestlers on it, then would ask questions like… what’s your favorite sushi? Do you only speak Japanese? How do you say toilet in Japanese? They have sumo in Japan right? Did you see my shirt? It was so amazingly awkward

Homophobic Mom

I once had two very young (like 15 at most) teenage boys come into my place for what was clearly their first date together, if not their first date ever. Maybe 20 minutes into their date one of their mothers showed up, realized it was a boy her son was on a date with, and started screaming and crying about she didn’t understand how he could do this to her and didn’t he know she wanted grandchildren, etc, etc. She just flipped out and was totally homophobic and told him he wasn’t allowed in her home if he was going to choose this lifestyle. He started crying, his poor date was totally bewildered, and ended up calling his mom to come take them home.

BBQ

Girl and guy came into the barbecue restaurant I worked at. At this place, like many casual BBQ places, you pay after you order and then come back to pick up your food when your number is called. That will matter in a second. Anyway…

They met at the door exchanging the usual “Hi, nice to meet you!”, etc. The guy was a complete ass. She ordered ribs and without hesitation he said:

“Do you want to keep that hot figure of yours or look like that chick over there?”

He then pointed to a woman who was slightly overweight. While they were waiting in line to pay he started flirting with the chick behind them. She dead ass waited until he paid then left without waiting for the food.

Her Hand

Couple in their mid-twenties comes in, it’s obviously a first date but they seem to really like each other and are getting along well. I wasn’t serving them however. About halfway through their meal I notice them holding hands over the table. Cute. Then, the guy lifts her hand to his lips and kisses the back of it. A bit of an outdated gesture, but still cute I guess. The woman seems slightly confused but goes along with it. A little while later I see the guy do it again. Okay, dude. Then again. Woman is confused and looks a little uncomfortable. They are no longer holding hands. I go to serve my table and see the dude full on MAKING OUT with her hand, tongue and all. Woman looks extremely embarrassed and uncomfortable, looking everywhere but at her date. I go over and casually ask if they need anything, and the dude stops. Woman yanks her hand back. She left pretty soon after.

The Cutest Karma

I had a 2 top in a small booth and across from them was a family of 6. The 2 top was in their mid 40’s maybe 50. I was delivering food to the 6 top and I was being berated for not using legs with my big trays, so I grabbed a pair and headed off. When I was setting them down a stacked plate on my tray shifted to the side and the whole tray pitched toward the 6 top. I panicked and tried to stop it from falling and it all went backwards off the tray.

Unluckily I didn’t hear a single plate shatter. I turned around and the woman at the 2 top had rib sauce on her face, mashed potatoes in her bust, and broccoli all over her lap. I started with, “I’m so sorry ma’am. Please stand up and we’ll get you cleaned up.”

My 6 top was forgotten at that moment. I pleaded with her to get up so we could clean her off, someone produced a towel for me, I had 2 managers trying to help. She was so polite and insistent that it was nobody’s fault. Her husband finally said, “at least wipe the sauce off your face.” And she laughed and got up.

Everything was comped on their ticket including alcohol. It was the only tray I ever dropped and they never made me use legs again.

They came back in and asked for me the next week. The husband told me they were celebrating 30 years together that night. I felt horrible. Then he told me on their first date she made spaghetti, and accidentally dumped it in his lap. He told her it was karma and they had a huge laugh, and a free meal.

The House Wine

I worked as a waitress in an Italian restaurant while in uni in 2006. Obvious first date comes in. He’s booked it and requested a table in a secluded area of the restaurant because the acoustics would be perfect.She arrives and asks to move table to by the window. No big deal. He’s annoyed at this.

They ordered a carafe of the house red with their meals. Anything she said he’d turn it into some achievement he’d already accomplished. He kept making comments about her order, such as how fattening a dish would be etc,and then proceeded to say his family owned a vineyard and he knew a good red wine when he smelt one.

He then asked for the most expensive wine on the menu and to take away the what he called “piss of a house wine” then talked about how the bouquet was different and the clarity was so much better on the “expensive” wine.

When it came to dessert she had enough of his bull and flipped when he said that she shouldn’t have any or she’d end up with stretch marks. She was a bit overweight but not overly so. She stood up and yelled at him for being a condescending piece of garbage, for knowing nothing at all about wine and dropped the coup de grâce that her father was our wine supplier and that the “piss of a house wine” red was exactly the same as the most expensive wine (all of which was totally true).

He was left speechless with the full check to pay.

 

I’ll write a few more in the next couple of hours!

 

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Andrea – 2014 – S&M Girl

“Hi Lorelei. Daddy’s just going to take this fat, drunk bitch back to his room and tie her up. Then you’re going to hear a lot of slapping and squishing sounds. You’re also going to hear Daddy say a bunch of really foul sexually degrading things to this woman, so you better put your ear buds in and crank that shit up.”

One night a couple of years ago, I was out with a friend of mine. We were having drinks outside at Misconduct at 15th & Locust. He was telling me a story about this girl he met on Tinder. Pure hookup. She comes over to his apartment. Sadly, she doesn’t look like her Tinder pics. Which is not good. That’s like seeing a photo of a car you want to buy in the Auto Trader and when you get to the lot to check out the car, it’s an older model and a little banged up and maybe even a bit more car than you saw in the photos.

But he was drunk and up for the foul deed. He said she was a thick girl but he went to town on her anyway. Like my tinder profile says: “If you don’t look like your photos, you’re going to buy me drinks until you do.” So he said it was good sex except for one thing. He didn’t like that she wanted him to spit on her and hit her. There’s nothing wrong with what two consenting adults do with each other behind closed doors. Especially if everyone’s on board with what’s happening. But he didn’t like it. Just not his thing.

He told me that he wasn’t comfortable with that situation. He said at that point no matter what he was into or what he would do, he couldn’t do that again.  It just wasn’t him. (He didn’t spit on her or hit her at all) At that time, back in the beginning of 2014, I had just come off a break up and told him to send Andrea pics of me. Because I was up for whatever she wanted dished out. The key here is when it comes to dominance, be firm…not mean. There’s a big difference. I would discipline and correct her if necessary. And remember, the submissive party is ALWAYS in control. They have the safe word and hold the power to cancel the fantasy at anytime. That’s the rules of S&M play.

Well, nothing came of it. Until earlier this year when she connected to me on LinkedIn. LinkedIn of all places! Can you imagine with all of the dating websites out there, LinkedIn brings me the crazy S&M chick? So we chatted and did some texting. She wanted me to text her all of the things I was going to do to her, so I did. I have a pretty good imagination. She said she was getting really turned on and that we should meet.

I set it up that we should meet at the Ranstead Room. It’s just a good spot normally to hideout with somebody. I get there and I’m just chilling with a drink. She arrives shortly thereafter. My friend was right about her. In her Tinder pics she looks really hot, but in real life she is a lot bigger, and what was with that low tranny voice? Not good. I just wasn’t feeling it. I would have to drink a LOT of cocktails for Andrea to start to resemble her profile pics on Tinder. So I figured what the hell, I was already here and the drinks were flowing. She wasn’t that hot but at least I was someplace where nobody knew me.

Then the manager from the restaurant where my daughter works suddenly comes through the door and walks right up to me and says hello using my name.

Now I’m made. He can see who I’m with and now everybody there knows my name.

Andrea starts telling me about her life. She hates her job and wants to leave Philly. (Probably a good idea for us all.) She was seeing some crazy drug dealer loser guy. He’s suicidal, and does tons of coke. It’s bad, and she’s not much better.  I always thought if you did a bunch of cocaine you were skinny. Certainly not the case here.

After awhile we’re getting pretty tipsy. We went outside for a cigarette. She was on me like a northern pike hitting the bait. So I’m making out with her and people are walking by on Ranstead and she just pulls her boobs out. She’s losing her shit. She wants to take me back behind the building and give me a blowjob.

Yea. Great. I’ll just go stand behind my daughter’s manager’s Mercedes-Benz and you can give me oral. What if he walks outside and sees that shit? That’s not going to be good for me or anybody. Now, if this was Los Angeles and it was 1982, yea I’d be down for that, but not now. That’s gross. Sure, I’m flattered that she’s turned on enough from my words and the alcohol to want to blow me in a filthy alley, but no. Just no. I don’t roll like that.

She’s drunk. We go back inside and we’re in the vestibule and all sorts of things are happening with lips and fingers. If somebody comes through either door, we’re going to jail. So after that brief encounter, we go back inside. I kind of want to go home. In the right environment, some S&M play could be fun with her, but I’m just not getting a good vibe from her in this moment. She’s calling me daddy and all that shit. She says she loves older men, etc. I tell her I have an early sales meeting in the morning that I have to travel to so we should wrap it up. (A bold-faced lie)

She wants to go back to my place and have sex. Great idea. I can see it now. Me walking through the door to my apartment with Andrea and my daughter sitting on the sofa.

“Hi Lorelei. Daddy’s just going to take this fat, drunk bitch back to his room and tie her up. Then you’re going to hear a lot of slapping and squishing sounds. You’re also going to hear Daddy say a bunch of really foul sexually degrading things to this woman, so you better put your ear buds in and crank that shit up.”

No. Not happening. We pay the bill, and we walk over to 18th Street. I hail her a taxi and send her on her way. I was actually relieved when she was gone.

If somebody I met and was in a relationship wanted to experiment with some things, I’d be down with that, but Andrea just isn’t that person.

Update! She appeared at the salon tonight for a tan before she goes to L.A!

She’s leaving Philly for good!

 

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Sun Stories: Pamela – Free Tanning Card

“Do you think I’m a prostitute?”

I was in a bar one night having a few drinks and seeing my friend, Prova. (See: Prova – 2015 to Present – Glow of the Sun) I was giving out free tanning cards to the girls working behind the bar, and I gave one to Pamela.

About a month or so later she came into the salon with the card I had given her. She seemed a little crazy. Just fussing over her face in the mirror and chattering about her job.

I take her back to the best bed in the house and show her how the bed works. She seems really into tanning. She’s excited to have a session in the best bed in the house.

When she’s finished she comes out and says she loved it and is going to buy a package. (The Free Tan Cards really work!)

She starts telling me how she’s going to see this guy she met on Tinder in New York. I tell her to be careful, and to let a friend know when she’s going, where she’s going and how long she’s supposed to be there.

Then she shocks me that she’s going there because the guy is paying her.

“Oh.”

“Yea. I’m kind of a sugarbaby.”

She went on to tell me about how she has a guy in Florida that pays her $2000 to come down for the weekend. He flies her in and pays her $2000 cash twice a month. She showed me a picture of him on her phone and he’s a fat half Asian, half Hispanic guy. He’s probably an IT computer guy with lots of money and no game. But hey, if he’s willing to pay…

“Do you think I’m a prostitute?”

Technically, what she’s doing is prostitution, but we’re at the salon and she’s a paying client with a premium package.

“No. You’re an adult and you can do what you like, Pam.”

“Ok. I just don’t want you to think I’m a whore.”

“You’re fine. Pam. No worries.”

“I just got this new phone. Do you have a charger?”

“I do.”

“Can you charge my phone while I go tan?”

“Sure.” She hands me the phone and I plug it in. I notice that there is no code to lock the phone. “Pam, you should put a code on this phone to protect people from looking at your stuff.”

“I don’t care if you peek.” She gives me a sly smile and heads back to the room.

Should I go through her phone and look at her pics?

Of course not! That’s an invasion of privacy. I’m employed here to protect my clients and take care of them.

Did I go look at her pics once she was back in the room?

Of course I did. She did say that she didn’t mind if I peeked.

So I looked.

There were many nude photos of Pam, of a graphic sexual nature. It was exciting to see her nude, but it was also a little gross.

When she came out of her session, she came to the counter to retrieve her phone.

“I put it in Airplane Mode. It charges twice as fast.”

“Thanks.” She gave me an approving smile. She knows I looked at her pics.

On another occasion, she was in room #10 at our old location, and I was next door in room #11 doing a demonstration for a woman who wanted to get a spray tan. Pamela must have heard my voice and opens the door of her room, and asks for an additional towel.

She was topless.

I hate my job.

 

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Antonia – Possibly a Mob Front?

“The square shaped balding man burst through the kitchen door with two glasses of water for us, and in a very loud and deep voice, he explained that it was his birthday, and we would eat what he felt like making us.”

Well, this one time I took my friend Antonia to dinner at (what seemed to be) a front for some type of illicit activity.

She had just moved to a new area, and we wanted to check out the local shops and restaurants. While we were wandering, we stumbled into a tiny Italian place. Back home, the small hole-in-the-wall restaurants always have the best food, so we were excited to give it a shot. Big curtains were covering the entry windows, so we had no idea what was inside until we trudged through the door.

Inside, we were met with emptiness and silence. We both immediately thought the place was closed, and I spun around and searched for the store hours posted somewhere on the door. While I was looking, we heard a heavy THUD as a young woman barked “I’ll be right with you!”

She appeared, greeted us confusingly, and asked us ‘what she could do for us’. Which, looking back, is probably a red flag. But we were naive and hungry, so we said we were there for dinner. She looked puzzled but motioned us to follow her to a booth right by the entrance.

She then disappeared into the back, and we heard a muffled conversation between our hostess and a man. The consensus was basically they were not prepared for us or didn’t know how to proceed. I asked my date if she wanted to split, but she insisted we stay for the story.

The square shaped balding man burst through the kitchen door with two glasses of water for us, and in a very loud and deep voice, he explained that it was his birthday, and we would eat what he felt like making us. We whole-heartedly agreed.

We waited around thirty minutes, and he again returned with three large bowls of spaghetti and meat sauce. He placed two bowls in front of us, and one next to me for himself. He sat with us and ate. We had light and awkward conversation with him during, and he kept asking us jokingly if we were cops or with the health board. He was incredibly nervous about us, so my date kept cracking corny puns or awful jokes because he would forcibly laugh at anything designed with humor. We talked about our lives, the cities we’ve lived in, our pets (he had a teacup Chihuahua named Princess) and his wife.

He decided we were good people and didn’t charge us for the meal. We wished him a happy birthday, he hugged us, and we went on our way. Easily the best spaghetti I’ve ever had in my life. The restaurant, unfortunately, no longer exists.

 

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Madeline – Fire and Desire

Another tale of one man’s journey navigating his way through the dating scene in Philadelphia.

Here’s one that happened a few years ago…

I met Madeline at a party thrown by friends. It was a big party. We had a great time talking and dancing for a couple of hours, and, we ended up exchanging phone numbers.

I spoke to my friends after the party, trying to find out a little more about her. They didn’t know who I was talking about, but there had been about fifty people or so there, so, it wasn’t surprising that they might not remember everyone. Shiela, my friend’s wife, said she “sort of remembers a redheaded girl arriving with some others from their office.”

A couple of days later, I called Madeline. She seemed pleased to hear from me. We chatted, and ended up making plans to meet for dinner and a show later in the week. I offered to pick her up at her apartment, but she said she didn’t live too far from the restaurant where we were going to meet, so she’d just meet me there after work.

As usual, I arrived at the restaurant first and was able to be seated right away. Madeline called my cell and said she was running about five minutes late, but would try to hurry. I thought it was very considerate of her to call especially since she was only running a few minutes late. Half an hour later, I didn’t think she was that considerate. God I hate lateness, but at least I was somewhere I could have a cocktail.

Madeline arrived at the restaurant with another couple whom she introduced as “friends from work who wanted to meet you.” She apologized for taking so long, saying that traffic had really slowed her down. I mentioned how that was weird  since the day before she’d told me she only lived five minutes away from the restaurant on foot. She laughed and said, “Oh, silly, I live close to this place but I work pretty far away.”

The couple laughed with her, and didn’t make a move to leave. As the waiter brought two more chairs to the table, Madeline said, “I hope it’s okay if they join us for dinner.” What was I supposed to say at that point? Uh…no, I really just wanted to get to know you better and having these people around just makes it harder?

 

Surprisingly, the dinner went fairly well, Madeline’s friends were pretty funny, and we laughed a lot. Once the dinner was over, I said, “Well, it was nice meeting you all, but we should get going if we’re going to make it to the theater in time for the show.”

Madeline and her friends got quiet, and started fidgeting a bit. Finally, the woman said, “Oh, I’ll ask him, you two cowards.”

I was thinking, “Great, now they want to come with us to the theater.” I couldn’t have been more wrong. The woman looked at me and continued, “We all really like you, and think you’re a great guy. Madeline, myself, and my husband would like to invite you over to our place for some games.”

“I blinked, then said, “Thanks, but, we’ve got theater tickets, and I’d hate for them to go to waste. Maybe another time.”Madeline took my hand and said, “Oh, you’ll like our games better than the theater.” Then she winked at me.

 

I was really confused, until they explained that their relationship was more than friendship. Madeline was their partner and they wanted me to join them in swinging.

I was shocked. I mean, I barely knew Madeline and here she wanted me not only to sleep with her, but…with her two friends during our FIRST date!!

I refused, saying I didn’t know them well enough to play like that. I asked Madeline if she still wanted to go with me to the theater, but she said “No, I’m in the mood to play, so we’ll just call one of our regulars.”

I ended up paying for dinner for three, then, going to the theater on my own. I still had a pretty enjoyable evening, after I gave my extra ticket to a lady standing in line. She was grateful, and assured me she wasn’t a swinger.

Nah… I’m just kidding. I gave the tickets away to a couple at a nearby table. We all split the check, and I went back to their place for an insane, sex drenched, kinky night.

Phicklephilly is a dating and relationship blog, not a sex blog. Use your imagination!

 

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